


Happiness I Seek

by ScarletteStar1



Series: Sister Janet and Sister Grace. . . Stories of Convent Love [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Erotica, F/F, Fingering, Forbidden Love, Kissing, Love, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Secret Sex, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27781366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Series: Sister Janet and Sister Grace. . . Stories of Convent Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122788
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Happiness I Seek

Sister Janet sat in her office attending to convent matters until very late. While hours for sleep were few, it seemed her work was never done. There were endless practical matters to attend to, in addition to ensuring the Novices received proper lessons and progression in their religious studies. Then of course, there was her least favorite task, balancing the ledgers.

Sometimes, on quiet nights, she snuck an hour or two of prayerful contemplation during which her eyes occasionally closed and her head to dropped softly forward. There was not a soul in all of the parish who’d begrudge the beloved sister a cat nap, and anyway, Sister Janet was the lightest sleeper and had the most attuned ears. So, her tendency to doze in those late hours didn’t have anything to do with lack of responsibility, and more to do with pure exhaustion.

She wasn’t sleeping on this particular night when she recognized the soft rap on her office door. “Enter,” she said. Sister Grace came through with a tray and closed the door behind her.

“I brought you some tea,” she said and set the tray on the edge of Sister Janet’s desk.

“Sister Grace, it’s late. You should be sleeping after your hectic afternoon, especially since tomorrow promises equal chaos. But I thank you for the tea.” Being in her office made her voice stern, formal. Hearing this tone directed at Sister Grace seemed unnatural.

The young nun took it in stride. “You worry about me too much. I’ll sleep when I need to, never you mind. I hope it’s a quiet night for you. You look rather tired.”

“Who’s worrying now?” Sister Janet smiled and took a deep breath that made her whole face rise up. “The tea will help.”

“Allow me,” Sister Grace said and began fixing the cup. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought a whole pot and an extra cup so I could sit with you, perhaps?” Her voice was timid and hopeful and it tore Sister Janet’s heart in two easily as if the human organ were made of no more than a slip of paper. How fragile, how delicate this young woman made her.

“Of course you may sit with me.” Unconsciously, her voice gentled. “You are always my kind and true little friend, aren’t you, Cate?”

Cate looked up, her eyes filled with surprise. It was the first time Sister Janet had ever used her name within the confines of her office. There were rules to this thing they shared. Their uncommon arrangement had boundaries, but they were sloppy and hard to find. Cate swallowed and smiled, but she looked like a small bird about to fly away. Janet saw how she’d startled her and lowered her own head solemnly. Cate returned her attention to the tea service and poured milk into the cups. “I don’t know how kind and true I am,” she said. Her voice and her hands were steady as she poured steaming tea into the cups. “The truth of the matter is I was rather selfish bringing you tea. I did it because I missed you, Isobel.” She kept her head down as her tongue and teeth created the sound of the name.

“I missed you too,” Isobel replied instantly. With a sigh of relief, Cate looked back up.

“Here we are.” She handed a cup to Isobel who thanked her and invited her to sit on the little sofa with her. For a while, they conversed about Novices, and about the weather, and about a leaky tap in the kitchen. And then, they sat simply sipping their tea.

“Can I ask you something?” Cate piped up.

“Of course.”

“Did you go out dancing? When you were younger?”

Isobel raised her eyebrows as she dipped her head and smiled. “Once or twice, I suppose. It was such a long time ago.”

“What was it like? Was it so much fun?” Cate sat forward, eagerly, almost spilling her tea. Isobel chuckled, gently took her cup and set it on a table next to her own. “How did you dress? Did you dance with gentlemen?”

“Oh, Cate, it was forever ago, in another life that I don’t really think about now.” Isobel sighed. She was eager to side step the question, but the look of disappointment on Cate’s face needled into her deepest heart space. “How about you? Did you go to dances?”

Cate shook her head. “I was quite young when I became a postulant. There was no time for dancing. Anyway, I don’t think I was truly the dancing type.” She said this with a dismissive shake of her head, but it was so very obvious she was only trying to convince herself of something. Isobel might have been more willing to believe her, had she not caught Cate in the act of lurking outside a cafe in town, listening curiously to the secular music playing on the radio and tapping her toes. The memory of it twisted Isobel’s viscera into a painful knot. Her hands crept from where they were laid neatly on her own lap, over to Cate and wrapped around her delicate fingers. An idea gripped her as she gripped Cate’s hands in her own.

“Would you like to dance?” Isobel heard the shakiness, the uncertainty in her own voice.

“What? What do you mean?” Cate regarded her suspiciously. Isobel stood from the couch and extended her hand.

“May I have this dance,” she asked with a shy smile and downcast eyes.

“Are you mocking me?” Cate’s face flushed.

“No! Not at all. Come here,” she flapped her hand impatiently, eager for the young woman to take it and save her from standing there foolishly alone. Mercifully, Cate stood and took her hand. Isobel pulled her into a loose embrace. For a moment, they tussled over whose hands went where, and ended up with Cate’s hand on Isobel’s shoulder and Isobel’s hand on the small of Cate’s back. Their starched, muslin wimples brushed together as they leaned in to one another.

“There’s no music,” Cate laughed as they started to sway.

“Oh, I beg to differ!” Isobel insisted and started to quietly sing. “ _Heaven, I'm in heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak, but I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek_.” Isobel put her cheek very close to Cate’s and let the rhythm of their breath carry them in a little circle around the floor. “You see?”

Cate beamed up at her. “Feels like magic. . .”

“I only wish I had a flower to give you,” Isobel murmured and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Cate nestled into her chest and continued in their gentle oscillation.

At a point, Cate looked up with a little crinkle in her brow and asked, “Have you ever danced like this with another woman, Bel?”

“No, never,” Isobel’s whisper came out husky and strange. “I am yours, entirely and alone and always, Catie Grace.” Perfectly certain of her exact place in the universe with Cate in her arms, it was too much not to meet and collect her full, precious lips in a soft kiss. All the silent rules and boundaries lost their words and edges. In the office, in their habits, dancing together, they kissed.

There was no dramatic twirling, or dipping, just very soft rocking and holding. Isobel's voice was sultry and low, more whisper than melody. When she forgot the rest of the words, she hummed, breathy, broken snippets, aware Cate’s hands found their way to her neck and searched for the inch of so of skin beneath her wimple. Collapsing to the couch, they kissed deeply, felt around and under their scapulars, desperate to feel curves and closeness. Their breath could have whispered anything and everything, and it did.

“My truest love,” Isobel gasped as Cate’s hands found their way beneath her habit to a bit of flesh. She uttered the words against her lips and closed her eyes to the office, to the telephone, to the entire world that demanded her attention. There was only Cate’s fingers inching up her thigh. There was only Cate’s breath puffing in her ear, Cate’s breast in her hand. And then, Cate’s fingers, delving beyond her drawers, into the thatch of her hair below and pushing in pushing up pushing gentle and wild and sweet. Isobel bit her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood. “Darling,” she gasped, and reached with fevered fingers to touch her the same way in the same places.

“Is it alright?” Cate panted quietly against Isobel’s face.

“It’s marvelous,” Isobel breathed. She’d slipped two fingers into Cate and curled them against the top of her silky inner wall while she used her thumb over the bundle of nerves at Cate’s apex. 

Cate squirmed and whimpered. “Oh, you’re going to make me feel it soon,” she moaned softly. Isobel could feel the stiffening of Cate’s body, and the swelling of her insides. Combined with the sweet noises Cate was making, and the gentle, but persistent working of her fingers in and on Isobel, it was entirely certain Isobel would follow over the edge as well. Cate shivered and rubbed circles over Isobel’s nipples.

“My wonderful girl,” Isobel sighed as the electricity of the touch spread in heated waves throughout her body.

“I’m so close to it,” Cate whispered. “Oh, I need it, I need it!”

“Yes, my love, take it!” Isobel held her tightly as pleasure shook her entire body. Overcome with the moment’s passion, Cate kissed Isobel deeply and pressed forward, pushing her fingers as deep as they could go while also rubbing against her pubic mound. Isobel was helpless not to shatter under the incredible sensations. “Oh, but I love you,” she whispered as she came down from the pleasure's peak.

With several shy giggles, they straightened their habits and readjusted crooked wimples. They poured more tea. It was cold, but they were thirsty after their exertions, so they drank it anyway, smiling at one another over the rims of their cups.

“As it turns out, I do quite enjoy dancing,” Cate said.

“I shall bear that in mind,” Isobel replied and her lips twitched with the desire to smile, but her mind felt disoriented and her soul felt darkened by what had just happened. She didn’t want to feel any of those things. She wanted to feel the simplicity of holding her girl in her arms and finding the secret music sparkling in between the moments of silence. She was about to reach for Cate’s hand when they both heard footsteps in the hallway. The two Sisters folded their hands on their laps and froze in their seats, waiting for the noise to dissipate.

“Well, I should go,” Cate said and Isobel felt an emptiness where her heart was supposed to be as her young lover rose and picked up the tea tray.

“Thank you for the tea,” Isobel stood also and had no idea what to do with her hands. “Rest well, my Dear,” she said, but something about it sounded so formal after what they had just experienced. Cate started for the door, and Iobel knew without a doubt she was taking her heart with her just as surely as she was taking the tray. “Catie!” Isobel whispered and Cate stopped, turned halfway around with wide eyes. Isobel approached her and cupped her face with her hands. She kissed the plump part of Cate’s cheek where she was smiling. Cate kissed her back with a look of such ardent and tender devotion it dispelled any dismay Isobel might have previously thought she felt.

The remainder of the night was quiet. Isobel found herself pleasantly alert from the tea and delightfully distracted by an errant spoon Cate had somehow forgotten when gathering their cups. With the small spoon curled in her fist, she sat at her desk and attempted to make sense of lines and numbers.


End file.
